


in our bedroom after the war

by scarletbluebird



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, after the war, coming home, holiday Gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletbluebird/pseuds/scarletbluebird
Summary: The war is over. It’s hard to reconcile that when she’s hunched over a slicer pad in an escape pod that’s drifting listlessly through deep space. The war is over for the Empire, but Jyn still has to make her way back home.





	in our bedroom after the war

**Author's Note:**

> hello it is kausaustralis and this is my secret santa gift for early-sunsets!! It was a challenge to do them after the war and I wish I had more time to write and expand this story, but sadly med school eats my soul. I hope you enjoy <3 I will def be writing these two again. Cassian is a challenge..I think I love him too much. PS: i haven't read truce at bakura in 10+ years so...I made stuff up from memory. also pods probably don't have FTL capabilities but lets just pretend they do.

 

 

in our bedroom after the war

 

 

**NOW**

 

 

The dream always starts the same way -

 

The glass of the windowpane;  blurred city lights through scheduled rain. Her mama is humming from the kitchen, from the garden, from the temple stairs. The feeling of the couch cushions soft under her knees as she looks down, down, down.

 

“Jyn, come help me bring this to the table,” her mother’s voice comes from the next room.

 

“Ok mama,” She huffs. Climbs down from the windowseat, from her bed, from her cell. Her mother crouches down and holds out her hands. There’s flour on them, crusting around her fingernails.

 

“Jyn,” She says, mouth pinched, quiet. “Take this.” The metal is cold when Jyn closes her fist around it _softly softly now_

 

The black grit sand sweeps mournfully across the horizon, cutting into her face. The live wire, blood wire, electric light wire stream of cars pass like a capillary anastomosis far below. Something sizzles in the very recesses of her as she watches her father walk away again, again, again. Rises as Cassian gazes up at her from their bed, dark hair, dark unknowable eyes. Her chest aches. _Jyn look-_

She wakes up, drenched in a cold sweat, to the sound of the computer’s alarm screaming. Exhaustion pulls heavy at her eyes and she fumbles with the switch to flip them off, squinting at the codes that scroll down the screen. Low O2, low fuel, she heaves out a shaky sigh and rubs her aching head.

 

She pulls out her mobile slicer pad and carefully unwraps another one of the wires on the dash. The lack of fuel in the pod has ejected her prematurely from hyperspace back into sublight and it takes longer than she’d like to admit to reroute the safety systems allowing her to input a FTL that the computer doesn’t automatically reject. With that done, she bypasses the heat system, shields and with shaky hands, pushes the lever forward. The rickety pod shudders its way into lightspeed.

 

* * *

 

 

**BEFORE**

 

“Isn’t that in wild space?” Cassian’s face is very carefully blank; his moment of initial surprise tucked away behind his eyes like a fading dream. The thickening of his accent is the only sign of any feeling. Jyn looks down at the pad in her hand to give herself something to do and pinches her lips together. The date blinks up at her in a damning fashion.

 

“It has an established hyperspace route,” she says finally. Then, “I’ll be back in time for the ceremony.” When she glances up she sees he’s moved to the window, silent as a ghost.

 

“Making the ceremony wasn’t my primary concern, believe it or not.” He says quietly and she waits but he doesn’t turn around. His reflection in the glass is distorted by the rain. Ah, and this was the thing that filled the silence between them, the thing that warred with speaking even after years of knowing each other.

 

“Cassian-“ She’s starting to say, she doesn’t know, something like maybe _I’ll come back,_ or _why can’t we-_  or _you know I-_ when their door chirps with an announced visitor and she shuts her mouth tight. Bodhi shuffles in with a wary look on his face, like he knows he’s walked in on something but isn’t sure what. It’s an expression he’s mastered over the years.

 

“They need you in the briefing room Jyn,” He glances towards Cassian, who is still looking out the window. “They sent me to get you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

“It’s alright,” She says, putting him out of his misery. “I’m coming.” Cassian still hasn’t looked at her, _kriffing sith spawn stubborn man_. She stands for a moment, trying desperately to think of something to say that won’t die in a dead-end argument, but in the end she can only come up with, “I’ll be back in a week. Try not to have too much fun without me.”

 

“Be careful,” Bodhi’s hand goes to her arm as she moves past him.

 

“I will be.” She glances over his shoulder and meets Cassian’s eyes in the reflection, it’s like a bolt to her stomach and she has to look away. _No use thinking about it now,_ she tells herself fiercely, as she stomps down the hallway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“—approaching landing site S412889-alpha-bravo,” Shern’s harsh basic jolts Jyn abruptly back to reality. She lifts her head and presses it against the crash webbing as the little freighter hits turbulence in atmo. An alarm on the dash shrieks a warning.

 

“We came out of the Shiritoku Way with no problem and should be landing in ten, Captain.” Shern asides to her, a grin splitting zer jowls. “Maybe sooner depending on the weather.”

 

Jyn gazes out the window, at the vast sunrise dying the phantom clouds of night a rich red, imperial - the carmine found in the heart of a star. Below, a lush verdant jungle stretches out into the horizon.

 

“Very good,” She says. _This is it,_ she thinks, reaching up to clutch a fist around her mother’s necklace.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Luke Skywalker is waiting for her on the landing pad. He looks different from the last time she saw him – bright eyed, eager – he’s tired she thinks, watching as he comes to greet her. They’re all tired.

 

“Captain Erso,” He smiles, hand coming up to shake hers. “I didn’t think I warranted intel ops.”

 

“I needed a vacation from the noise at home,” she quips back, motioning for him to lead the way inside. “I hear Bakura is just lovely this time of year.”

 

“Lovely. Well that’s one word for it.” They go through a maze of small hallways, passing humanoids busy on their com units, talking to each other in loud voices, one Jyn sees arguing with a medic. The base is still very clearly recovering. Skywalker stops at a nondescript brown door and keys it open.

 

“Make yourself at home,” it’s a joke of course, the clinical room is anything but homey. Still, Jyn goes to sit on one end of a grey couch while Skywalker moves to putz around with something in his kitchen unit before bringing her over a cup of caf.

 

“Thanks,” She takes a sip and concentrates on not wrinkling her nose at the bitterness. Skywalker sees anyway and laughs good naturedly.

 

“Terrible right? I’ll be back in a second.” He goes back into his living quarters and Jyn is left there sitting awkwardly, balancing a cup of hot caf on her knee that she decidedly does not want to drink. Eventually she wanders over to the small window that looks over across the jungle. Mist rises from the trees, and she can make out the shapes of strange birds flutter from branch to branch. In the distance, tall spire-like buildings rise up through the understory, glistening in the midmorning sun.  It must be close to 19:50 on Yavin IV, she thinks. Just getting dark. He’d be putting Jude down to sleep soon. Maybe he’d go to work in their garden as the moon rose overhead.

 

“Erso?” His tone of voice tells her this isn’t the first time he’s called her name. _Focus,_ she tells herself, turning. Skywalker is holding out the data chip a chagrinned look on his face. She thanks him and takes it.

 

“Still strange they sent you,” he comes up next to her and they both watch a bright red bird chase a green one across the canopy.

 

“I don’t ask questions,” she puts the chip in a hidden pocket in her tac vest, “I just do what they tell me.”  Truthfully, she was beginning to wonder herself. The Ssi-Ruuk had been put down, whatever was on Skywalkers datachip surely could have been brought back with him. _Unless he wasn’t going back_ a voice in the back of her mind points out.  

 

“I was wondering,” his voice was hesitant, eyes watching the red bird that was now preening on its newly acquired branch. “if you ever gave a thought to what we talked about.”

 

“I have,” she admits, nodding her head slowly. “But…I have a family. I’m not interested in that way of life.” _Anymore._

 

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other Jyn, times have changed.”

 

“Beggars can’t be choosers?” She jokes and he laughs. “Thank you for offering,” she says as his face sobers. “But the answer is still no.”

 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs like it doesn’t cost him, when she remembers the look on his face on Yavin IV, the first time they met and the subsequent conversation with Cassian. The _you can go with him if you want to_ catalyst that led to the rest of their life. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

 

“I’ll let you know,” she says and they smile at each other. “But I won’t change it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The refugee ship she’s ticketed on doesn’t leave until the next day, so she says her goodbyes to Skywalker and meanders through the sprawling base. The jungles of Bakura are wetter than Yavin IV, similar but singularly different. The birds in the trees call foreign to each other, the hazy trill of bugs are vocal in the wind. Jyn wanders her way through pallets of metal sourced from the mines, medic base units doing inventory, even a small squadron doing what looks like basic hand to hand.

 

Eventually, she finds the mess hall and helps herself to the generic foodstuffs the rebellion seems to offer everywhere in the galaxy. She pulls out her pad while she eats and checks her mail, not expecting anything and pleasantly surprised when she sees she has a message from one Celix Sebor.

 

_Kestral,_ it reads _so sorry I missed you, but I hear you’ll be back soon. J says hello! He has taken to helping me with my gardening._  

_safe flying. See you soon. – C_

 

Jyn hides a smile behind her palm and lets the warm feeling in her chest simmer for a minute before opening a message response.

 

_good to hear from you celix. I reckon I’ll catch you on the next cargo shipment out. Tell J I say hello and to stay out of trouble. - K_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The transport _Di’entha_ is, for lack of a better word, a complete piece of shit. Maybe in its heyday it was something, but the paneling is falling off the walls, the paint flaking and pealing off the hull. There is a pervasive smell of mildew in the air and Jyn tucks herself away amongst the crowds of dirty bodies, pulling her hood over her head. She makes her way to her bunkroom, which smelled like the pair of old boots she’d had as a teenager and relished throwing away when Cassian had gifted her another set. Her necklace is a warm presence against the hollow of her throat. It's close to 22:00 by the time she finally falls asleep, the strangely persist dream following her down.

 

 Jyn awakens to the sound of the ship’s engine hum shutting off. For a moment of disorientation she blinks in the dark and then she jerks into action, quickly putting on her boots and snapping her knives onto her leg and wrist brace.  Slipping her truncheon into its strap on her back and gripping her blaster she quietly presses the button that slides her door open.

 

Outside it’s chaos. A high pitched ringing in air and the sound of blaster fire makes her crouch low as she inches towards the biggest common area on her level. Jyn takes cover behind a fallen table before taking a breath and looking out. There’s rubbish everywhere and thick smoke. Flashing lights of silent alarms are flickering red and violet on the ceiling. The mess hall has been completely destroyed; the tables flipped over, chairs piled against the wall in some sort of make shift barricade and the bodies of passengers littered throughout the room.

 

Jyn stiffens as she watches as a man, _mercenary? Imperial?_ shoot a lower ranking republic officer in the head. She turns back, acutely aware of the data chip in her vest. _Prioritize. Focus._  She waits until they leave the main hall before making her way to the lifts that go to the lower levels.

 

One of the men is standing guard outside them and he turns to her as she rounds the corner, gun up. She grabs his forearm and jerks his arm down. He fires.  Lashing out with her hand, she cracks the base of her palm against his nose, breaking it. Jyn slams her elbow against his temple to knock him out and slowly, slowly drops him to the floor. She runs into the lift and slaps her palm against the closing panel.

 

As the lift starts to move up, she leans panting against the wall and takes a minute to gather her thoughts, pressing her hand hard against her side.  “Kriffing hell,” she can’t help but cough out a laugh. “Why is he _always_ right?”

 

Level 32 is a wreck when she gets to it, black blaster scorches gouged in the walls and the bodies of the crew strewn about. But somehow, blessedly, there’s still one escape pod left. For a minute she’s tempted to throw her vest inside and eject it because she’s desperate to _know_. Then she thinks of Cassian’s eyes in the window’s reflection – bleak, like he knew he’d never see her again, of his hand in hers covered in mud from their garden in spring, of Jude in his arms as Cassian sits next to her in their bed and says _he called me da_ , his voice alight with wonder.  The way she’d thought with a sudden ferocity: _everything I do is for them._

 

She gets into the pod and holds her breath as the ship falls away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Now:**

The dream always starts the same way -

 

The glass of the windowpane, blurred city lights through scheduled rain. Her mama is humming from the kitchen, from the garden, from the temple stairs, the feeling of the couch cushions soft under her knees as she looks down, down, down.

 

“Jyn, come help me carry this inside,” her mother’s voice comes from the next room.

 

“Ok mama,” She huffs. Climbs down from the window seat. Her mother crouches down and holds out her hands. There’s dirt on them, crusting her fingernails.

 

“Jyn,” She says, mouth pinched, quiet. “Take this.” The metal is cold when Jyn closes her hand around the lightsaber.

 

“I thought you told me never to touch this?” There’s sand in Jyn’s mouth from the wind on the beach. It grits between her teeth.

 

“Things have changed,” Lyra looks out over the ocean. In the distance there’s a wall of fire rushing towards them; it’s starkly beautiful. “I’m sorry Jyn. I thought I’d be able to protect you.”

 

“You did.” She can barely speak through the sand, and she turns to hide her head into Cassian’s shoulder. His arms come up around her like a shroud and she can feel him breathing against her hair. Something sizzles in the very recesses of her chest.

 

“Jyn,” he whispers and she looks up at him. His mouth is tight but there’s a light in his eyes. Her chest aches _Jyn look-_

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

Her side hurts worse now. Jyn tries to minimize her movements as the pod stutters out of lightspeed. There’s not enough fuel to conceivably jump back into the hyperspace route, no matter what sort of splicing she tries to do. The pod is crippled, drifting listlessly but Jyn thinks she might have made it into the Outer Rim before the power shut off. At least she hopes so.

 

Her mouth feels parched, like she’s eaten sand, but her mind is strangely clear. She thinks about the glow bugs that flicker in the garden at night, weaving their way through the trees. How Cassian would catch them between his hands, softly, softly and make a little cup to show Jude. How the little bugs would jump from his hand to Jude’s and Jude, who walked in that clumsy way that babies walked, would hold his hands out to her, big almond eyes all _ma look_ and Cassian would _laugh._

 

Jyn evens out her breath and closes her eyes, pushing her mind to calm and focus on a bright point. _The force can heal the soul_ , Skywalker’s voice came to her, as she centers her mind and the world around her grows dim. _Use it._

* * *

 

 

The dream always starts the same way -

 

The glass of the windowpane, blurred city lights through scheduled rain; Her mama is humming from the kitchen, from the garden, from the temple stairs, the feeling of the couch cushions soft under her knees as she looks down, down, down.

 

“Jyn, come help me carry this quickly,” her mother’s voice comes from the next room.

 

“Ok mama,” She huffs. Climbs down from the window seat. Her mother crouches down and holds out her hands. There’s blood on them, dried brown and crusting her fingernails.

 

“Jyn,” She says, mouth pinched, quiet. “Take this, quickly now.” The metal is cold when Jyn closes her hand around the lightsaber.

 

“What is this?” There’s sand in Jyn’s mouth from the wind on the beach. It grits between her teeth and cuts into her cheeks.

 

“The world has changed.”  Lyra looks out over the ocean. In the distance there’s a wall of fire rushing towards them, it’s so beautiful Jyn feels like crying. “I’m sorry Jyn. I thought I’d be able to save you.”

 

“You tried.” She can barely speak through the sand, and she goes to hide her head in Cassian’s shoulder. His arms come up around her like a shroud and she can feel him breathing against her hair. Something sizzles in the very recesses of her chest.

 

“Jyn look,” he whispers and she turns to him. His mouth is tight but there’s a light in his eyes. Her chest hurts and she has to look down, fingers clenching around the fabric of Cassian’s shirt. It’s her mother’s crystal, it’s glowing between them like a bright star. She thinks _gods this may be it_ , she looks up at Cassian and he’s smili n g-

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She wakes up to a beeping machine, and squints her eyes up at a white sterile ceiling. Blinking, she manages to turn her head. She’s on a biobed, her vitals trailing across the screen beside her. She realizes with a rush of warmth that Cassian is asleep in a chair next to her bed. His arms are folded over his chest, chin tilted down, face pinched despite his unconscious state. Jyn thinks he looks so tired. Her heart aches.

 

She watches him and eventually, as if he can sense her eyes, he wakes. It’s such a smooth transition, she almost doesn’t catch it: his breathing doesn’t change, he doesn’t stiffen or relax, his eyes are just closed and open in the next moment.

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her voice croaks out. And it’s like a light goes on inside of him.

 

“Jyn.” He’s leaning forward, taking up her hand. He presses it to his mouth as if to stop himself from saying anything more.

  
“I’m sorry I missed the ceremony,” She says inanely and he shakes his head.

 

“Believe it or not, that wasn’t my primary concern,” His beard is scratchy against her fingers as he smiles. She turns her hand and runs it along his face and Cassian takes the hint and leans forward, finally, to kiss her.

 

“What happened?” She mumbles against his mouth.

 

“Pirates attacked _Di’entha_ eight days ago,” Cassian rests his forehead against hers, their noses just brushing. “Your escape pod was picked up just inside the Outer Rim by one of Karrde’s groups.”

 

“Talon Karrde?” She leans back and catches Cassian’s eye. He makes a wry face.

 

“I may have to change my opinion of the man after this,” he admits, begrudgingly.

 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” She grins and sighs as his thumb goes to stroke her face.

 

“You’ve been in bacta for three days Jyn,” His voice is soft. “When they first brought you in I thought…” he stops speaking suddenly, cutting himself off.

 

“I know,” She whispers. “It’s alright. I’m here.”

 

His arms around her say _I can’t loose you_ , her arms around him say, _you won’t._

 

* * *

 

 

Cassian takes her home and she spends the next day – to her annoyance – in bed. A blasterbolt to the gut will do that, she begrudgingly admits to herself.  Jyn wakes in the grey liminal light of early morning, Cassian’s warmth behind her. She wakes to Cassian coming into the bedroom with Jude tucked asleep in his arms, the golden glow of afternoon sunlight hugging them in adoration. He catches her watching and smiles.

 

“Hello sleepyhead.”

 

“Hello yourself,” She yawns, rubbing her eyes. The mattress shifts as Cassian sits next to her and she reaches to cradle Jude against her. He huffs in his sleep but curls into her shoulder in that way he always does when he’s very tired. Cassian puts his arm around her and the world created between them is safe, and quiet and whole.   

 

Cassian is humming something in his native tongue that makes Jyn’s eyes grow heavy. On the cusp of sleep, she feels him whisper against her hair in his soft voice, “Welcome home.”

 

 

 

 

  


End file.
